


A conversation

by orphan_account



Category: Political RPF, justin trudeau - Fandom
Genre: I wrote this bc I was like I need angst in this pairing, Like macron's backstory is p wtf, M/M, also I went to canada, god save my soul, which was a source of inspiration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 07:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11375088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Justin Trudeau finds out a detail about Macron's past that unsettles him. Angst ensues.





	A conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Happy fucking Canada day bgahagfhjhgf.

Justin and Emmanuel had just returned from their stroll through a gorgeous Italian garden. Of course, in the name of diplomacy. It had been wonderful and romantic, but the more Justin thought about Emmanuel, the more concerns presented themselves.

 

It had started when Justin had taken Emmanuel to Roots. It was the most stereotypically Canadian store, but he’d wanted to do _something_ to welcome Emmanuel. It had, of course, been a secret date, but a date nonetheless.

 

They’d been looking at one of those cheesy bottles of syrup in the shape of a maple leaf when Emmanuel said, almost out of nowhere: “Brigitte has quite a sweet tooth. It was obvious, even when I first met her.”

 

“And when would that be?” Justin asked. He’d just wanted to continue the conversation, but he wasn’t exactly prepared for what had happened next.

 

Emmanuel blushed, in a clear mix of shame and guilt. “I. I was 15. It’s. A long story.”

 

Justin had dropped the topic, but it seemed suspicious. Suspicious enough that once he arrived home, he’d decided to do some research. At first, people were just ranting about Emmanuel and Brigitte’s age gap. Justin had to admit to himself that it was _a little_ weird.

 

But the more he read, the more disturbed he became. It wasn’t only that Emmanuel had been so young when he met his wife, but that she had been his teacher. And they’d been sleeping together, even when Emmanuel had been at such a young age. He was shocked.

 

Justin knew in his heart of hearts that people could change, but it was different. They were married now, Brigitte and Emmanuel. It was incredibly worrisome.

 

After considering it for a week, Justin had decided to broach the topic (gently) with Emmanuel at the Italian summit. It was the next time they’d see each other and it seemed to be a good opportunity to voice his concerns.

 

They’d arrived to the summit, and they’d done their rounds talking to all of the other leaders when Justin decided to bring up the thoughts that had burning at him. “Emmanuel. Would you like to take a walk?”

 

“Of course,” Emmanuel said, smiling. Justin guessed he was smiling because time between the two was rare, and they were about to be together in what felt essentially like paradise.

 

They walked over to a pathway overlooking the glittering ocean. It wasn’t as private as Justin would have liked, but it would have to do. “So. Uh. How are things going with you and Brigitte?”

 

“It’s going just fine, thank you,” Emmanuel said, overly stiff due to the obvious presence of cameras.

 

“I’m… glad. It’s just. Uh. How exactly did you meet?”

 

“Can we not talk about this here?”

 

“When _will_ we talk about it?” Justin said, doing his best to seem commanding. He was always the submissive one in the relationship—could it be expected of someone from a country celebrating “150 of nice” to be the dominant member of a relationship?

 

“Fine,” Emmanuel said. Justin could see in his eyes that Emmanuel was calculating the risks—after a moment of consideration, he (Emmanuel) began to speak in French. “I was her student okay? And we did some things. I uh. I don’t feel comfortable talking about this here.”

 

“Of course,” Justin replied, in French. He could understand being uncomfortable. He also knew he didn’t have as much room to judge as he would have liked; his own parents had an age gap of nearly 30 years. So he delayed the conversation, and then delayed it more. He delayed it until the next time he saw Emmanuel, which happened to be for a simple “diplomatic” meeting in Ottawa.

 

“We were having a conversation last week,” Justin said, carefully. They’d finally stolen a moment away together, and after kissing for quite a while, Justin had gotten distracted from his mission. Then, of course, he’d remembered what had been plaguing him all week.

 

“Were we,” Emmanuel replied, clearly more interested in events currently transpiring than any possible conversation.

 

“Yes, we were,” Justin said. He took a deep breath and then started: “Isn’t it a bit strange that your wife was your teacher?”

 

 Emmanuel paused his current actions. He knew it seemed weird to everyone else, but he still loved his wife. “I could see that. But I love her. And besides, I’ve never really been with anyone else.”

 

Justin thought about it for a second. “Maybe you’re scared of change,” he proposed.

 

“I suppose,” Emmanuel said.

 

The next week, Justin was heavily occupied with actual political duties (as opposed to, for example, buzzfeed videos or dodging the questions of various members of parliament), so he didn’t have much time to think. But he began to think it through. Maybe he _did_ deserve better than a man whose life story was like a strange combination of that one pretty little liars character and the narrator of the song Stacy’s Mom. Justin, after all, didn’t have any excruciatingly strange life details. Sure there were embarrassing moments here and there, but nothing on this order of magnitude.

 

With these thoughts in his head, Justin decided to call Emmanuel.

 

“Hello, Emmanuel,” Justin said, nervously.

 

 _“Hello,”_ Emmanuel replied. He sounded tired, which, given the time difference, made sense.

 

“Are we sure we should keep. Keep being in this relationship,” Justin said. He was unsure of himself.

 

 _“Why would we not?”_ Emmanuel said.

 

“Well, just, the backstory of y’know,” Justin said, dancing around the topic. He didn’t want to give Emmanuel the wrong idea, or God forbid be _rude_.

 

“ _I see.”_

“I. Uh, yeah.”

 

“ _There’s nothing I can really do about it. Look, if you can’t deal with it, we don’t have to…”_

“This is crazy. Why would you say something like that. I’m still fond of you, but this whole thing is ridiculous.”

 

“ _I’m incredibly afraid of change sometimes,”_ Emmanuel said. Justin began to see Emmanuel’s side, but he still felt weird about it. But, Justin really didn’t want to stop seeing Emmanuel.

“I see. But isn’t this whole relationship change? Why the hell does this situation have to be so weird.”

 

 _“I suppose that it is. I’m just so afraid of it, and at this point divorcing her would be too much of a PR mess to deal with,”_ Emmanuel said. Justin found this explanation enough to make him feel far more at ease than usual. He began to forgive Emmanuel.

“Of course, of course.”

 

_“But I still love you.”_

“I do too, I do too.”

 

_“I know it’s weird, I know it is, I’ve just been so scared to change the status quo and I’ve stupidly done so much to be with her, and I mean, I enjoy her company.”_

 

“Of course,” Justin said. They then had to hang up because Justin had a meeting that had been moved up, but the call still made him feel far better about his situation.

 

Justin wanted to surprise Emmanuel with something positive after their (very polite and very small) argument. So, he decided to fly to France the next day for a “diplomatic meeting” and to surprise Emmanuel.

 

When he landed, he sent Emmanuel a text to meet him at a specific room in the hotel they had previously preselected as a comfy yet secretive meeting location. Justin sat in the room awkwardly for half an hour, fiddling with the bottle of champagne that he had bought for the occasion.

 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the hotel room door. He slowly opened the door to reveal a kindly cleaning lady, who he quickly told to come back later because he didn’t want to be discovered as the Prime Minister of Canada, thereby starting an international incident. He then walked back into the room.

 

After making faces at the mirror for a while, a second knock came at the door. Justin opened the door to find and extremely tired and work-weary Emmanuel standing at the door.

 

“Hey,” Justin said.

 

“Hello. What a surprise this is,” Emmanuel said, excited.

 

“Are we okay? After what happened yesterday?” Justin asked, leaning in for a kiss.

 

“Of course we are. I love you,” Emmanuel said, resisting the urge to keep loudly kissing in the hallway.

 

Justin then ushered him quickly into the room, and offered him a glass of champagne. Emmanuel smiled, and Justin knew that the evening had just begun, and was about to get a whole lot better.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I fucking wrote a Macron/Trudeau fic, why am I like this. Y'all are a horrible influence. Staring @ you Vancouver crowd


End file.
